


An Angel's Love

by The_Foxwolf



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Angels, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Foxwolf/pseuds/The_Foxwolf
Summary: If you never read another short story I write, read this one. It's beautiful.This is the story of an angel who discovers happiness. True happiness. She discovers love, but not in the traditional way most angels experience it. No, she experiences this love in the way only a handful of angels ever have. No smut. Just romance.





	1. Chapter 1

An Angel’s Love

Chapter 1:

Amara fit another dried and sculpted twig into her model of the Thraben Cathedral. Few humans knew the Cathedral better than she did and the other angels of The Flight of Alabaster roosted. This was their home in a way that the humans would, by the nature of the structure, never fully appreciate. All of her sisters had their own hobbies during the rare days they are allowed free time- Correction-given leave. Free time wasn't the right word. Angels were warriors, afterall. When her division was granted leave, Amara spent her time on her model, using meticulous precision in all of its design. She had been given tiny tools and even a magnification glass to help her when she first began by the priests in the Cathedral.

When she started making the model, she had no idea how many years it would take to finish. She didn’t even know what she intended to do with it when it was done. But that was fine. Amara would live forever. Her project would be finished someday.

A light buzz on the back of her mind told her that someone was praying to her. It was not unheard of that humans would pray to specific angels other than the goddess Avacyn, but it was uncommon. Especially in Thraben, the seat of the Church of Avacyn. Amara set down her tools and twigs and closed her eyes to hear this man’s prayer. Ah, it was Harvey. His prayers were always bright in her mind. Amara didn’t mind that he prayed to her. One less prayer on the goddess's mind would ease her already hefty load. Praying to specific angels wasn’t encouraged among Avacyn’s faithful, but it certainly wasn’t discouraged. If that was the case, most of he people of Stensia would be in trouble as having patron angels was common practice.

Amara spread her wings and glided out to the balcony overlooking the great city of Thraben. Like all her sisters, she could see the light within every human, a brightness that spoke of the goodness of their heart. Even among the hundreds of thousands of faithful in Thraben, Harvey stood out to her. Perhaps she could see him more distinctly because he was one of three that prayed to her. But she didn’t think so. When Harvey prayed, there was a sincerity in his words that touched even her angelic heart.

She glided down from the balcony to one of the flying buttresses of the Cathedral. The early morning sun bathed her in its glow as she listened to his prayers. Protection and prosperity were always among his prayers. But rarely for himself. His mother and his brother were as constant as the mountains of Stensia in his prayers. But they weren’t the only ones. Today prayed for the florist across the street who had lost a rose bush to blight. Yesterday, he prayed for the cobbler in the house beside him who had broken his pinky and was having trouble with his craft. Harvey prayed for everyone but himself. But that was alright. That was why she was here. To watch over this man whose heart seemed to be grander than most.

People like this were rare. That even one such person prayed to her was a gift. Angels didn’t take pride in those that prayed to them or those they watched over. They were meant to protect and serve. Pride and competition and jealousy were not part of an angel’s nature. But she couldn’t help but feel grateful to have this one. People like Harvey reminded her of the truth that Avacyn fought so valiantly for. Humans were beautiful creatures capable of love. A love that was as powerful as the angels themselves. 

Amara glided over to the chimney of the florist’s shop and gazed upon Harvey’s wood carving shop. He had finished his prayers now and was preparing to set to work. Harvey chose to work outside, unlike many of his trade. “To leave an impact on the people of Thraben in a much more personal way,” she had heard him tell the cobbler before, inspiring him to follow Harvey's lead.

Even now, Harvey greeted the early morning shoppers and pedestrians. Those that had been down this street more than once knew him by name now. He just had that kind of charisma. Amara held a special place in her heart for this man. Not in the way humans held each other, of course. It was just that he was a special kind of man who touched people's lives.

He had only seen her once before. A thief had broken into his shop late at night and picked the lock on the vault where Harvey kept his life savings. Understandably, Harvey sent Avacyn a panicked prayer. Human were silly. They would pray to the angels to help them in their daily endeavors of completing an errand in time or in helping them fix a broken relationship. Angels didn’t have the power nor the time for such frivolities. But when it came to something an angel could actually do, they acted upon it as soon as they could. This close to the Cathedral, Amara had captured the thief before he had run off more than a block away. She turned the thief over to the Inquisitors and went to personally deliver the stolen property to Harvey. That was the one and only time they had met. And somehow it was enough for him to choose her as the one he would pray to. He didn’t even know her name.

Amara took a breath, a very human thing to do as angels didn’t need to breathe, and she let it out slowly as her mind skimmed through the prayers of the other two that prayed to her. None of those prayers had requests she could actually fulfill anyways. She could indulge herself a few more moments here.

He was handsome by human standards. She wondered why he didn’t have a spouse. Not that it mattered to her whether he had one, of course. Just that as a concerned angel, she wondered if he would be happier with a significant other. As she mused, she hadn’t noticed Harvey had set aside his tools and stood up to stretch. By chance, he happened to glance towards the sky. That’s when he saw her. His face turned from his normal jolly semblance to one of surprise and awe. Amara met his eyes and froze. What was she supposed to do? Was she meant to say hello? Hold her gaze to let him know she was watching over him? Did he recognize her? How could he? Of so many angels in Thraben how could Harvey know who she was?

“Is that you, my angel? Watching over me?” He whispered too quiet for perhaps even his own ears to sense. But she knew he was speaking to her. Angels always knew when they were being spoken to.

Amara’s wings twitched and she softly chewed on her lower lip. What was she supposed to do? This kind of thing had never happened to her before. The only interactions with humans she had experienced were those that came after a battle or after providing assistance. Never something as mundane as happening upon each other across the street.

The panic rushed to her face and Amara spread her wings and took to the skies. She shook her head, her long red wavy hair tossing about her face. Foolish, foolish Amara. She can’t panic like that in front of Avacyn’s faithful. Angels are meant to be a symbol of hope and stability and protection. Not panic. It’s not like he could tell anyways. He must have just thought she was watching over him is all. How could he possibly know her state of mind as she took off? There was no way he could… But if he did? Would he think less of her? No, Harvey was one of Avacyn’s faithful. This incident couldn’t possibly change that.

The brief thought of Harvey losing faith in Avacyn felt like ice water down her back. She sped up her flight speed until she reached the clouds and Thraben looked no bigger than the model in her roost. Foolish Amara. She was overthinking this. Amara took a deep breath of the crisp high-altitude air. The warm trickle of a prayer spread itself into her mind.

“Thank you, my angel. For watching over me. I knew that my love for you and for Lady Avacyn and her Archangels was not unheeded. Tonight, I will sleep all the sounder for it.”

Foolish Amara. It was so obvious now that he would react that way. She should have known and chided herself for reacting as she did. Amara let her breath out slowly, gratefully. She wanted so much to go back and talk to him, to tell him that she loved him too, that she would always watch over him. But not love in the same way humans loved one another; it was unheard of for angels to feel that way. Well maybe not unheard of, just extremely rare. Not that she had those kinds of feelings, of course. Just the protective and caring kind of love, as all angels have for humans.

The back of her head buzzed lightly- a prayer sent by Avacyn. Someone’s home had caught fire nearby and he needed rescuing. Amara spread her wings wide, releasing the tension she hadn’t noticed was in them and took off.

Between her and a few of her sisters, they managed to put out the fire with tranquility enchantments that calmed the fire down until it extinguished itself. A devil had caused the flame. Not a surprise. The little creatures were always up to mischief. But of course, devils were far too small, too nimble, too clever to be caught or killed. An annoyance, but one for the Inquisitors of the Cathars to deal with. 

Amara was pleased with their work. No one was killed and they even managed to save most of the victim’s house and belongings. It would take a while, but they would be able to rebuild their lives relatively easily. Their grateful smiles and waves as she took off filled her with satisfaction. This is what she and her sisters fought for every day. To bring about happiness.

_________

It had been a few weeks since she last saw him. Once again, her division was granted leave for a few days. Once she had arrived, showered, and changed out of her Battle Armor into her At-Rest Armor, Amara devoted herself to the scale model of the Cathedral. She wanted this model needed to be perfect. Maybe she would give to Avacyn. Or more likely to her commander, the Archangel Bruna. She’d figure it out eventually. Hours after she had begun, with an endurance no human could have, a warm buzz in the back of her mind told of a prayer being sent to her. 

It was Harvey. Like the clock at the tower in front of the Cathedral, his prayers came around consistently. Of late, his prayers had grown more sincere, more grateful. They took longer than they used to. He prayed slowly, making sure each sentence was heartfelt and meaningful. If his gratitude was a bright characteristic before, it was a lighthouse in a storm now. She couldn’t help but stop what she was doing and appreciate the sincerity of his words. Of the love in his heart and thoughts. Praying in gratitude for the little things in his life. Praying for his friend, for her neighbor, for the man who slighted him today. Never once had he ever prayed about a lover, though. Which almost came as a surprise, as humans had a tendency to pray about them. Not that she cared if he prayed about a lover or not, of course. Just that she found it endearing. Correction—she found it unusual. That was more the word she was looking for. 

She glanced at her model. It was starting to finally look like the Cathedral. Each pew, each candlestick, all of it was down to the finest detail. Amara felt pride in her work—correction, satisfaction. For a moment she wondered what Harvey would think of it. Not that it mattered, of course. Just that he was very skilled at his craft and would be able to give her a proper opinion. Amara took a moment to look around her to the rest of the roosts in the tower. Dozens of the sisters of her division were out answering personal prayers or working on their own personal projects. Her art was unique in its own way. Surra was a musician, practicing a variety of woodwinds and pianos. Tana had a large glass dome with a variety of flowers and plants in which she kept a collection of rare and beautiful butterflies. But this model was hers. Uniquely hers and hers alone. 

A twinge of guilt touched her mind. She was here working on personal projects when some of her sisters were out answering prayers even during their leave. Maybe she should make the rounds and check up on the humans that prayed to her. Just to be sure she wasn’t ignoring them.

She gently glided out of the aerie and out toward her people. After making sure all was well with the other two that prayed to her, Amara let herself glide over to the Merchant’s wall to Harvey’s shop. With an orange hued sky of the setting sun at her back, she landed on the chimney of the florist’s shop, casting long shadows across the street in the evening light. Harvey was moving his heavy wooden carvings, statues really, back inside for the night. He didn’t even struggle to move them and she knew they must be heavy for a human to move. Not his strength mattered to her, of course. Just that it was nice to know he was more than capable of protecting himself should he ever be in trouble. If he called, she would still come to him. As she would have with all of the humans who prayed to her, of course.

The florist called out to Harvey, wishing him a good rest of the day and he glanced up and flashed the elderly woman a smile. He probably didn’t know it, but it was a dazzling smile, one that was so simple but so honest. Not that it mattered to her…well it didn’t matter really if she thought that. It was just a smile. As he came back outside to bring in his final statue, he caught sight of her shadow on the ground. He followed the shadow up to her and grinned. Amara involuntarily sent a small smile back at him…not that it mattered if she did it voluntarily or not, it was just a smile after all. Harvey raised a palm and waved it at her, a typical salutation among the humans. Amara hesitated for a moment before she raised her own palm and sent him a small, hesitant, wave back, not quite sure what else to do. Harvey grinned brilliantly.

Amara felt a touch of joy within herself. She had just brightened up the rest of his evening. He didn’t even have to ask… and all she did was give him a smile a small wave. Perhaps she could take pride in that? In knowing she made one of the humans who prayed to her happy without even needing to be asked?

Harvey set down the statue and straightened up. She could feel him whisper, “Again you come to me my angel… I have a strange request to make of you…I have never seen an angel smile until you did just now. You do so much for me and everyone else on Innistrad. An angel as beautiful and as loving as you deserves to smile. Please. Grant my prayer. Smile more often.”

Amara’s pulse quickened, not quite sure what to think of his prayer. She instinctively spread her wings to take off and fly. As she raised herself into the air, she gave him another slight wave of her hand. His request was confusing. Angels weren’t meant to fulfill all of a human’s wishes. But they were supposed to answer all prayers that they could. But…his prayer asked for her to smile? Amara wasn’t sure if the request would be considered too frivolous to merit being answered. She didn’t know what to think of it at all.

As Amara flew back to her roost, she wondered how many more days Bruna would let her division have off. Not that she was unwilling to go and serve, of course. Just that she wanted to work on her model a little more. Amara would faithfully, joyfully, and gladly serve should she be called. There was no doubt about that…but a few more days off would be nice.

   
  


Chapter 2

Bruna, Archangel of the Flight of Alabaster, her commander, had to cut their leave short. A great war had taken place across the sea on a faraway land where mountains spewed molten earth. Thousands of souls needed guiding to the Blessed Sleep. That was why angel divisions were set aside and given leave. For situations such as this. The longer these souls remained in the world, the more likely it was that they could be captured or corrupt into geists. The journey across the ocean had taken several days, so some had been lost already. Local divisions of Flight Alabaster angels had been busy keeping nerco-alchemists away from the battle grounds to keep the souls from being captured or destroyed. With the arrival of her division, they could finally begin the cleanup process.

After a long week of work, they had ferried the souls to the Blessed Sleep and exterminated those who had become geists. She and her sisters were granted leave as they had fought and flown for weeks without rest. It was always a joy to guide souls to the Blessed Sleep. Though it was sad that people had died, it was a joy to ensure those people would never rise again.

Back at the Cathedral and after a much-needed shower, she went back to her roost to work on her model. Not that angels really needed to shower. They could exterminate all imperfections and filth by radiating a purifying glow of white mana from themselves. But showering was an option they had and that some angels took. Amara liked showering. The physical beating of the water against her solidified the idea that she had been granted leave. Not long after the sun had set and she had begun to work on her model again, she felt Harvey’s nighttime prayer. He wasn’t asking for anything, this time. Instead, he only prayed in gratitude. For the stars. For the clean air. For the safe streets. For the breath in his lungs. For the pulse in his veins. If only all humans could be as grateful for the little things in life as Harvey was…

Amara rose and gently glided out of the aerie and landed on the chimney of the florist across the street from his shop. Like many of the vendors along the Merchant’s Wall, Harvey lived in the second floor. He was out back it seemed, as she couldn’t sense him inside. Tentatively, she rose from her perch and landed on the chimney of the shop beside his and looked into his backyard. There he was, humming a hymn to himself beside a bright fire. Shadows danced across the defined muscles of his bare back and arms as he carved away at a statue she couldn’t quite see from her angle. For a human who had never seen the field of battle, he certainly had the build of a warrior. 

She admired his devotion. There was passion in all his statues but she could tell, even from a distance, that this one was special. Some time passed before Harvey took a break and headed inside, perhaps to relieve himself. Amara ventured a peek and glided down and landed to look at the statue.

It was an angel. Harvey was carving out the image of Avacyn. Even in this early, rougher stage, she could tell this was going to be a masterpiece. Amara traced the shapes and the rough details of the statue with her fingers, amazed at Harvey’s woodcrafting skill. So enraptured was she by the statue she didn’t notice when Harvey had returned. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her for a few seconds, a pleased smile on his face. Her battle instincts detected a force behind her and she whirled around to face him, hand reaching for the sword at her hip. 

Harvey chuckled and raised a hand, “Easy there. You’d sunder me apart like a hot knife through butter with that weapon.”

Amara hesitated for a moment, far too many instincts and thoughts and emotions in her mind competing for attention. She noticed her hand was resting on the pommel of her sword and let out a tiny gasp, grateful she hadn’t drawn it. 

His steady soothing voice tried to ease her wild thoughts and feelings before she took off. “It’s okay. I’m not afraid. I trust you.” Her wings twitched. “What do you think?” he asked, gesturing at the carving, hoping to keep her here a little longer. “Beautiful, huh?”

She let out a breath, trying to keep at bay the panic of not knowing what to do, and slowly diverted her attention away from his distracting green eyes to the statue beside her. Her stance eased and her wings relaxed as she ran her finger over the feathers of one of the statue’s wings. 

“It’s not for a client,” he explained, crossing his arms across his broad chest. She glanced at him, confused. “It’s personal. For me. A project I do for fun. Been working on it every night for weeks now.”

Amara nodded. Just like her model of the Cathedral. She tried to speak but couldn’t manage to actually form any words. It was as though some oppressive magic was preventing her from translating thought into speech.

“Recognize the image? I know it’s still kind of rough.” He asked, amused smile on his face. She looked up to him as though he had asked a rhetorical question. “It’s not Avacyn, if that’s what you think. I’ve made dozens of Avacyn statues. This one,” he said as he approached laying his large rough hands gingerly along the wing ridge opposite of the one she was inspecting. “this one is special.”

Was it Sigharda? No, the shape of the jaw and hips wasn’t right. Was it Gisela? No, Gisela was much more streamlined than this. Bruna, perhaps? Closer, but not quite. If it wasn’t Avacyn and it wasn’t her Archangels, then who- her eyes widened as the idea crossed her mind that this might be a statue of her.

He grinned as he saw her reaction. “I don’t know if angels have mirrors up in your roosts. But I hoped you’d recognize it.”

Why? Why would he carve a statue of her? Did he worship her more than Avacyn? That would be blasphemous! 

Harvey noticed the look on her face and shook his head, holding out a hand reassuringly. “It’s not what you think. I didn’t make this for myself. Well, I sort of did, but I didn’t mean to keep it.”

She stared into his frustratingly distracting green eyes inquisitively and hesitantly pointed a finger at her chest.

“Yeah, I mean-” He said as he bashfully rubbed the back of his head. “-you do so much for me I thought it was the least I could do. Give you something back.”

Her eyes traced the curve of his arm for a moment before coming back to his face. She didn’t even know how to respond anymore. What was she supposed to do? There wasn’t a protocol for this! Was she allowed to take it? Should she be angry? Grateful? Should she report it to Bruna? What was she supposed to do?

His bright face became crestfallen when he saw the whirlwind of ever increasing confusion on her face. “You don’t like it? Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head vigorously, red waves brushing against her cheeks. Did all of her sisters have such trouble speaking with humans? How did Avacyn make it look so easy?

Harvey solemnly nodded, “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sure this must be overwhelming for you.” he said, bashfully rubbing the back of his head again, smiling childishly, “My heart is nearly pounding out of my chest right now—and I’m accustomed to talking with people. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

Amara forcibly relaxed her wings and let out the breath she hadn’t noticed she had been holding. This wasn’t easy for her and it was kind of him to be so understanding. She gave him a tiny, insecure, smile. His face brightened up to match the flame beside them and she felt her cheeks grow uncharacteristically warm. Amara glanced away from his face. Her cheeks flashed from warm to blazing hot as her eyes fell across his defined core. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sorry if I’ve kept you from whatever duties you’ve got.” He hesitated for a moment, his eyes softening, “Thank you for coming. I don’t know what brought you around tonight. But it means a lot to me.” Harvey extended a hand to her, “It is nice to behold your beauty in person at last. It will certainly help with my statue.”

She stared at the hand as though she had never seen one. Amara had seen humans do this before but she never quite understood-

Harvey chuckled and nodded, “It’s a human thing. We extend our hands and grip each other’s palms in a sign of trust and respect. It’s used for saying hello or…” he shrugged, his broad shoulders sagging just a little.

She took a hesitant step towards him. Standing right next to him, she realized that he was tall for a human. Nearly half a head taller than her and certainly much broader than her. Amara took an unnecessary deep breath and hesitantly extended her own hand to his. Despite the fact that angels were born for battle, their bodies didn’t wear like those of a human. Her hands were still as slender as they had always been. His hand practically enveloped hers as they gripped palms. With the strength all angels had, she had to try not to squeeze too hard. Not that it was a problem. He seemed to restrain himself too. 

Harvey smiled at her. A simple smile. Not the endearing childish smile she had seen or the dazzling polite smile he gave his friends. No, this one had all the sincerity of his prayers. It was…beautiful.

“Good night, my angel.” He said as he released her hand.

Unsure of what the proper human farewell procedure was like, she took a step back and prepared to fly. She searched her mind for memories of what she had seen humans do in situations like this. As she rose into the air, she grabbed onto one such memory. Her tongue was far too tied up right now for her to say anything, frustrating her to no end. So instead she gave him a small wave just as she did before all those weeks ago before extending her wings and taking off into the night sky. 

The night was uncharacteristically hot on her way back. Her face was burning like the fire in his backyard. Had she been singed by the flames? No. Angels were so resistant to fire that they were almost incapable of being burned. She didn’t want to think about it. It didn’t matter. Despite herself, she noticed herself smiling. An action that in itself was exceedingly rare among angels. Not that it was unheard of, of course. Just…well, she deserved to smile. 

_________ 

Amara didn’t get to work on her model for much longer than she had hoped. Downtime for an angel was uncommon. Innistrad has many enemies that need vanquishing and her division is but one of many who are rotated for leave. Between missions she made quick trips to check on Harvey’s statue, always making sure she was out of sight. Not that she was afraid of talking to him, of course. Just that she didn’t really have the time. Tonight was one such night when she took a chance to go out to see him.

It was obvious Harvey was really pouring himself into this. Amara ran her hand over the carving’s increasingly detailed face and could sense the passion Harvey was working into it. Devotion. Dedication. Gratitude. Love. Amara smiled. Which was okay because it was just a smile. For once in her life, a human was doing something for her. That never happened to angels. Well, it did happen but it was extremely rare. But of all angels, one of her humans, correction—one of the humans that prayed to her, was making something for her. Amara couldn’t help but feel satisfied—correction, she couldn’t help but feel loved. That was the word. Not that the prayers she heard from those that prayed to her ever lacked love, of course. Just… this love wasn’t ephemeral. It was more than just a thought that touched her own. It was a physical manifestation of his emotions. No one else had felt that way enough for her to express themselves physically.

She knew humans often gave each other presents as a means to show affection, friendship, gratitude, and appreciation. Her human—correction, one of the humans that prayed to her, truly cared for her. She was more than just an angel to answer his prayers. To Harvey, she had significance other than just what she was or what she did or what she could do. Harvey cared for her. Cared for Amara, not just Amara, the Angel. 

Warmth alighted on her cheeks as she thought about that. In his eyes, she was a person…not just an angel. Amara could feel her entire frame sigh, if that were possible. She smiled as she noticed that Harvey had started working on the details of her face now. He was close to being done.

 

Chapter 3

Another couple of months went by before her division was finally given leave. Finally, she could get back to working on her model, back to regularly checking in on her human—correction, the humans that prayed to her. She really needed to stop thinking about him as her human. Not that he wasn’t, of course. Just that…well she shouldn’t be thinking of him in possessive manner. That was inappropriate. Angels didn’t do that.

Amara took great satisfaction in how well her model of the Cathedral was progressing. By watching Harvey work on her statue—correction, the statue of her, she learned that love improved performance. He loved his work. But her statue—correction, the statue of her- was significantly more detailed and beautiful than the rest of Harvey’s carvings. Not because he was spending more time on it, he only really worked on it for an hour or so a night, but because he was pouring love into his work. By seeing her Cathedral as an object of love instead of a hobby, the rate at which it was progressing was much faster than she could have imagined. Maybe she would give it to Commander Bruna when she completed it. She still hadn’t made up her mind about whether she was going to give it to Bruna or to Avacyn. What would Harvey think of it? Not that she was planning on giving it to him, of course. Just that…well, he was a woodcarver and would more fully appreciate her craft. Maybe that’s why she should give it to him. But…she loved Avacyn and Commander Bruna above all other things. Shouldn’t her gift go to one of them? They already had everything she could offer though. Her entire existence was devoted to them and to the humans she fought to protect. All of her love already belonged to them. Would it be so bad if she gave this small token away to her human—correction, to the human that prayed to her? No. She couldn’t think like that. It was borderline blasphemous.

But wasn’t that exactly what Harvey was doing? He has already dedicated himself to Avacyn and her church. Every statue he carved had to do with the church. He didn’t see the statue as a representation of love greater than his love for Avacyn. The Archangel already had vastly more of his heart than any statue could equate…so was it so bad to consider giving it to him?

She would figure it out later. This leave was longer than normal, five days instead of three, and she intended on making the most of it. Amara worked tirelessly, stopping only to sleep as much as her mind needed. She wasn’t quite sure why she was so intent on finishing it. Amara had no idea who she was going to give it to anyways. It didn’t matter. Whoever she was going to give it to would love it. He’d probably—correction whoever it was she gave it to, would probably love it regardless if it was done this week or a few months from now. 

When at last she finished it four days later, she had accomplished as much as she had in the last few decades. All because she was pouring her love into the work. Love that an angel feels for her human—correction, for the humans that pray to them. Purely platonic and not romantic like the humans had. Not that it was unheard of for angels to have those feelings…or that she had those feelings…not that it would be a problem if she did have those feelings…not that she did, though…

Amara bit her lip thoughtfully. She had never experienced such conflicting thoughts and emotions until she had started seeing Harvey. Not that she was seeing him in the way humans see each other, of course… not that it would be unheard of if she did choose to. More like seeing him in the way that involved her visiting him. Not him personally, of course. Just checking up on her humans—correction, on the humans that prayed to her.

Amara closed her eyes and shook her head. _I guess my mind is made up for me. I can’t get the idea of giving it to him out of my head._

A clear, bright thought burst its way through her troubled mind, a prayer unlike any she had ever heard before. Harvey. No. Not just a prayer. A call for help. He was in danger. She only had on her At-Rest Robes on, not exactly battle armor. It didn’t matter. Harvey was in trouble. Amara grabbed her sword and shot out of the aerie at a speed she knew was disrespectful to the Archangels. Amara would have to apologize later. 

When she blasted across the city to Harvey’s home, her heart froze in her chest. His shop was on fire. His shop was on fire! True panic, not like the confusing warmth that thinking of Harvey made her feel, pulsed in her veins moving her to action. Amara swooped by, looking for a landing zone. The speed with which she flew past blew out some of the flames, enough for her to land through a hole in the roof on the top floor. Avacyn guide me, she thought. This is bad.

Amara tossed aside the burning statues he had throughout his home and the rubble from the building itself. Humans did not have the resilience against fire that angels did. It wouldn’t take long for a little bit of fire to wreak a lot of damage on a human. She had to find him. There was just so much burning wood everywhere! Of course her human had to—correction a human that- NO! She didn’t have time for this! Of course her human had to be a wood carver. She ran through her options, realizing that trying to find him beneath the rubble would take too long. As an angel of the Flight of Alabaster, her skills weren’t so much with her blade, though she was quite competent with it, but in her magic. But she had never cast a spell as powerful as she needed now. Using the dampening power of White magic, she tried casting a tranquility spell on the building that would calm the chaos of the fire until it died down. 

But it was beyond her abilities. Amara had never cast a spell this powerful and this encompassing before. She had always been able to rely on her sisters when she needed to cast spells of this magnitude.

“My angel! Where are you?” She heard him shout from downstairs. That was all she needed. Amara took a grip on his words and followed their love and their faith, using it to fuel her spell. The blood pounded in her ears as she strained her body and her magic to their limit. Around her, the flames began to die down…but it still wasn’t enough. Amara couldn’t risk relocating downstairs and losing the spell she had going. She didn’t have time to find him under the rubble downstairs or try to rebuild the spell in time to save him.

_Performance is improved with love._ She thought to herself. Her mind flashed to images of her statue—correction- NO! Shut up! It was her statue! Memories of her statue and the model of the Cathedral in her roost flashed to the forefront of her mind. _I need to add love._ Drawing upon a source of power she had never before thought of using, she fueled her spell with her own love.

Using the magic inherent to her as an angel of the Flight Alabaster, using the magic of Harvey’s love and faith, and using the magic of her own love, her spell expanded until it fully enclosed the entire building. It would take a few moments for the fires to burn out. She had to make sure the enchantment would last that long. But every moment felt longer than the last. Each second weighed upon her like a hurricane. Bright lights danced across her vision; she was reaching the limitations of her body. If she kept channeling magic this way, her body would incinerate from mana burn… It didn’t matter. Harvey needed her. 

With renewed vigor, Amara channeled even more magic into her spell. Every inch of her body, both inside and out, burned. Not like when she thought of Harvey. She burned like molten rock of the mountains across the sea. Amara let out an involuntary cry of pain from her lungs. But she wouldn’t give up. She would channel the magic to put these flames out even if it killed her. Amara had never imagined that an angel was capable of feeling so much pain. But the idea of Harvey’s light dying from this world was a greater pain on her heart than her body could ever suffer.

Her body shook like the earthquakes that occasionally hit Nephalia shook the land. She felt as though her very bones would be shaken to dust before she was done. Blood leaked from her nose from the effort and the veins on her arms and face stood out like roads on a map. Tears of pain spilled from her eyes and her cry of agony faded into an inaudible grimace. She was dying. In a few more seconds, she would be all used up. She knew that for Harvey only a few moments had passed, though for her it had seemed like ages. Darkness began to close in around her vision and she felt a wave of exhaustion crash against her. It offered The Blessed Sleep, the gift she had given to thousands before her. Amara smiled and closed her eyes.

  
____________  


She was back in her roost. All the others were empty and a brilliant light filled the aerie. It was as though Avacyn had brought a drop of the sun and sprinkled it around the room. Bruna waited for her, suspended in midair with her wings spread wide and welcoming, out by the exit.

“Come, Amara. You have served your duty well. It is time for me to carry you into the Blessed Sleep.” She beckoned.

All her life Amara had worked to ferry the souls of the dead to the Blessed Sleep. At last, that opportunity would be hers. Amara could rest forever now. Her model of the Cathedral! She could give it to Bruna now!

A single pulse pumped through her body as she recalled having finished it already. A wave of exhaustion hit her with pain that nearly knocked her off her feet. Bruna’s voice interjected before Amara had time to think about what had happened. “Come now, Amara. Avacyn is waiting outside. Together, we will guide you to The Blessed Sleep.”

Amara glanced at the exit of the aerie, remembering how many times she flown out of it. This would be her final time. A memory of her blasting out the aerie at a disrespectful speed pounded through her head. Her vision swam with pain she couldn’t ignore. She set a hand against the bed, waiting for the pain to subside.

“Is something wrong, Amara?” Bruna asked, concerned. “You seem unwell.”

“I am fine,” Amara said. “I’m just having trouble dying-flying! I meant flying.”

Bruna tilted her wings and glided over. She was legitimately concerned. “Amara, you need help. Please. Let me carry you away to the Blessed Sleep. You deserve to rest a while.” 

Her body shook like a bell stuck a too hard and she could feel every ounce of blood in her body force themselves through her veins. “I deserve…to smile?” Again, pain racked her core followed by a tidal wave of exhaustion that made her collapse on the bed.

“You deserve to rest.” Bruna replied, her beautiful face frowning. “Please come with me. I don’t want to see you suffer anymore.” She reached out and grasped Amara’s hand.

Amara’s body pulsed again. Memories of a handsome, neatly bearded man shaking her hand played across her mind. One word reached the forefront of her mind. “Harvey?” She felt like her heart ruptured from effort and her head nearly burst from pain. Blood began to trickle down her nose.

Bruna’s face changed, expressing her realization, and nodded solemnly. “Go, Amara. I see now why you have resisted so strongly. You have found that which only a handful of angels in history have ever experienced. Avacyn and I would be cruel to take that away from you.” Amara collapsed on her hands and knees as her vision blurred and her head swam. The pain was so intense, so consistent now, it was blurring all other thoughts and senses. Her heart pounded away, but with effort, as though a mountain rested on it.

Bruna went on as Amara collapsed on the floor and darkness filled her vision. “As angels, it is our mission to bring about happiness. You have succeeded, Amara.”

____________

“My angel…come back to me.” He whispered, cradling her limp body, tears running down his face into his beard. “Please. I…” He paused, searching for the right word. There was a word on his mind that he didn’t want to admit he wanted to say. After a brief moment, he sagged his shoulders and admitted. “I love you, dearest angel. Please come back to me.” 

His heart fluttered for a moment, in tune with her eyelids. “My angel? Please. Fight it. I know you crave the Blessed Sleep. But…you can’t go. You’ve never experienced happiness.” His voice wavered, on the brink of sobbing. “You can’t leave without that.” A thought sprang to life in his mind, “My dearest angel. Listen to my prayer. Come back to me. Come back and experience happiness with me. This, I ask of you and of Avacyn. Please… come back to me.” 

Amara took a gasping breath as her eyes opened, her hand reaching up and grasping his arm to prove to herself that she was alive. Now it was Harvey’s turn to be speechless. 

She reached up a pale, delicate hand to his face and caressed his cheek. “That…” she weakly managed, “…is a prayer I can answer for you, Harvey.” And she smiled. Not a small smile, not a nervous or insecure smile…no. This one was genuine. It was real.

At last, he had heard her voice. For the first time in his life, he had heard her voice. She smiled up at him. A genuine, heart melting, warm smile. He wanted to speak, to tell her how happy he was. But words were incapable of expressing the depths of emotions right now.

So he kissed her.

____________

Very human thoughts, feelings, and desires rushed through her mind. She didn’t know where they came from, just that they were there. For the first time in her long life, Amara knew what it meant to be an individual. His kiss… she realized she is more than just an angel, more than just a force of justice. She was something only a handful of angels had ever managed to become. Amara was a separate, autonomous, unique, and _individual person_. 

For a brief moment she broke away from him, gazing into his beautiful eyes. “I. Love. You.” No corrections. No justifications. Each word in that phrase now had meanings that she had never before comprehended. Until now. "I. Love. You." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bruna, Archangel of the Flight of Alabaster, her commander, had to cut their leave short. A great war had taken place across the sea on a faraway land where mountains spewed molten earth. Thousands of souls needed guiding to the Blessed Sleep. That was why angel divisions were set aside and given leave. For situations such as this. The longer these souls remained in the world, the more likely it was that they could be captured or turn into geists. The journey across the ocean had taken several days, so some of the souls had become corrupted by the time she arrived with her sisters. Local divisions of Flight Alabaster angels had been busy keeping nerco-alchemists away from the battle grounds to keep the souls from being captured or destroyed. With the arrival of her division, they could finally begin the clean up process.

After a long week of work, they had ferried the souls to the Blessed Sleep and exterminated the souls who had become geists. She and her sisters were granted leave as they had fought and flown for weeks without rest. It was always a joy to guide souls to the Blessed Sleep. Though it was was sad that people had died, it was a joy to ensure those people would never rise again.

Back at the Cathedral and after a much needed shower, she went back to her roost to work on her model. Not that angels really needed to shower. They could exterminate all imperfections and filth by radiating a purifying glow of white mana from themselves. But showering was an option they had and that some angels took. Amara liked showering. The physical beating of the water against her solidified the idea that she had been granted leave. Not long after the sun had set she felt Harvey’s nighttime prayer. He wasn’t asking for anything, this time. Instead, he only prayed in gratitude. For the stars. For the clean air. For the safe streets. For the breath in his lungs. For the pulse in his veins. If only all humans could be as grateful for the little things in life as Harvey was…

Amara rose and gently glided out of the aerie and landed on the chimney of the florist across the street from his shop. Like many of the vendors along the Merchant’s Wall, Harvey lived in the second floor. He was out back it seemed, as she couldn’t sense him inside. Tentatively, she rose from her perch and landed on the chimney of the shop beside his and looked into his backyard. There he was, humming a hymn to himself beside a bright fire. Shadows danced across the defined muscles of his bare back and arms as he carved away at a statue she couldn’t quite see from her angle. For a human who had never seen the field of battle, he certainly had the build of a warrior.

She admired his devotion. There was passion in all his statues but she could tell, even from a distance, that this one was special. Some time passed before Harvey took a break and headed inside, perhaps to relieve himself. Amara ventured a peek and glided down and landed to look at the statue.

It was an angel. Harvey was carving out the image of Avacyn. Even in this early, rougher stage, she could tell this was going to be a masterpiece. Amara traced the shapes and the rough details of the statue with her fingers, amazed at Harvey’s woodcrafting skill. So enraptured was she by the statue she didn’t notice when Harvey had returned. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her for a few seconds, a pleased smile on his face. Her battle instincts detected a force behind her and she whirled around to face him, hand reaching for the sword at her hip.

Harvey chuckled and raised a hand, “Easy there. You’d sunder me apart like a hot knife though butter with that weapon.”

Amara hesitated for a moment, far too many instincts and thoughts and emotions in her mind competing for attention. She noticed her hand was resting on the pommel of her sword and let out a tiny gasp, grateful she hadn’t drawn it.

His steady soothing voice tried to ease her wild thoughts and feelings before she took off. “It’s okay. I’m not afraid. I trust you.” Her wings twitched. Her eyes were wide and he realized he was probably intimidating her. Even he knew angels and humans rarely had such casual conversations. What do you think?” he asked, gesturing at the carving, hoping to give her something to focus on. “Beautiful, huh?”

She let out a ragged breath, trying to keep her at bay the panic of not knowing what to do, and slowly diverted her attention away from his distracting green eyes to the statue beside her. Her stance eased and her wings relaxed as she ran her finger over the feathers of one of the statue’s wings.

“It’s not for a client,” he explained, crossing his arms across his broad chest. She glanced at him, confused. “It’s personal. For me. Like a project I do for fun. Been working on it every night for weeks now.”

Amara nodded. Just like her model of the Cathedral. She tried to speak, but couldn’t manage to actually form any words. It was as though some oppressive magic was preventing her from translating thought into speech.

“Recognize the image? I know it’s still kind of rough.” He asked, playful smile on his face. She looked up to him as though he had asked a rhetorical question. “It’s not Avacyn, if that’s what you think. I’ve made dozens of Avacyn statues. This one,” he said as he approached laying his large rough hands gingerly along the wing ridge opposite of the one she was inspecting. “this one is special.”

Was it Sigharda? No, the shape of the jaw and hips wasn’t right. Was it Gisela? No, Gisela was much more streamlined than this. Bruna, perhaps? Closer, but not quite. If it wasn’t Avacyn and it wasn’t her Archangels, then who- her eyes widened as the idea crossed her mind that this might be a statue of her.

He grinned as he saw her reaction. “I don’t know if angels have mirrors up in your roosts. But I hoped you’d recognize it.”

Why? Why would he carve a statue of her? Did he worship her more than Avacyn? That would be blasphemous! Her wings twitched as confusion assailed her mind. She had to force her wings to calm to prevent herself from taking off.

Harvey noticed the look on her face and shook his head, holding out a hand reassuringly. “It’s not what you think. I didn’t make this for myself. Well, I sort of did, but I didn’t mean to keep it.”

She stared into his frustratingly distracting green eyes inquisitively and hesitantly pointed a finger at her chest.

“Yeah, I mean-” He said as he bashfully rubbed the back of his head. “-you do so much for me I thought it was the least I could do. Give you something back.”

Her eyes glanced at his arm for a moment before coming back to his face. She didn’t even know how to respond anymore. What was she supposed to do? There wasn’t a protocol for this! Was she allowed to take it? Should she be angry? Grateful? Should she report it to Bruna? What was she supposed to do?

His bright face became crestfallen when he saw the whirlwind of ever increasing confusion on her face. “You don’t like it? Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head vigorously, red waves brushing against her cheeks. Did all of her sisters have such trouble speaking with them? How did Avacyn do it? Avacyn made interacting with humans so easy!

Harvey solemnly nodded, “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sure this must be overwhelming for you.” he said, bashfully rubbing the back of his head again, smiling childishly, “My heart is nearly pounding out of my chest right now—and I’m accustomed to talking with people. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

Amara forcibly relaxed her wings and let out the breath she hadn’t noticed she had been holding. This wasn’t easy for her and it was kind of him to be so understanding. She gave him a tiny, insecure, smile. His face brightened up to match the flame beside them and she felt her cheeks grow uncharacteristically warm. Amara glanced away from his face. Her cheeks flashed from warm to blazing hot as her eyes fell across his powerfully defined core. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sorry if I’ve kept you from whatever duties you’ve got.” He hesitated for a moment, his eyes softening, “Thank you for coming. I don’t know what brought you around tonight. But it means a lot to me.” Harvey extended a hand to her, “It is nice to behold your beauty in person at last. It will certainly help with my statue.”

She stared at the hand as though she had never seen one. Amara had seen humans do this before but she never quite understood-

Harvey chuckled and nodded, “It’s a human thing. We extend our hands and grip each other’s palms in a sign of trust and respect. It’s used for saying hello or…” he shrugged, his broad shoulders sagging just a little.

Amara gazed deep into his eyes. Angels didn’t have irises or pupils. They were pure white representations of the unbiased perception of justice. She knew it probably offset Harvey to look into them, humans generally didn’t tend to like eyes that looked different than theirs. But at the moment it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to say goodbye. Goodbye implied a farewell, and she would always be watching over him.

She took a hesitant step towards him. Standing right next to him, she realized that he was tall for a human. Nearly half a head taller than her and certainly much broader than her. Amara took an unnecessary deep breath and hesitantly extended her own hand to his. Despite the fact that angels were born for battle, their bodies didn’t wear like those of a human. Her hands were still as slender as they had always been. His hand practically enveloped hers as they gripped palms. With the strength all angels had, she had to try not to squeeze too hard. Not that it was a problem. He seemed to restrain himself too.

Harvey smiled at her. A simple smile. Not the endearing childish smile she had seen or the dazzling polite smile he gave his friends. No, this one had all the sincerity of his prayers. It was…beautiful.

“Good night, my angel.” He said as he released her hand.

Unsure of what the proper human farewell procedure was like, she took a step back and prepared to fly. She searched her mind for memories of what she had seen humans do in situations like this. As she rose into the air, she grabbed onto one such memory. Her tongue was far too tied up right now for her to say anything, frustrating her to no end. So instead she gave him a small wave just as she did before all those weeks ago before extending her wings and taking off into the night sky.

The night was uncharacteristically hot on her way back. Her face was burning like the fire in his backyard. Had she stood too close? No. Angels were so resistant to fire that they were almost incapable of being burned. She didn’t want to think about it. It didn’t matter. Despite herself, she noticed herself smiling. An action that in itself was exceedingly rare among angels. Not that it was unheard of, of course. Just…well, she deserved to smile. 

_________ 

Amara didn’t get to work on her model for much longer than she had hoped. Downtime for an angel was uncommon. Innistrad has many enemies that need vanquishing and her division is but one of many who are rotated for leave. Between missions she made quick trips to check on Harvey’s statue, always making sure she was out of sight. Not that she was afraid of talking to him, of course. Just that she didn’t really have the time. Tonight was one such night.

It was obvious Harvey was really pouring himself into this. Amara ran her hand over the carving’s increasingly detailed face and could sense the emotions Harvey was feeling as he worked on them. Devotion. Dedication. Gratitude. Love. Amara smiled. Which was okay because it was just a smile. For once in her life, a human was doing something for her. That never happened to angels. Well, it did happen but it was extremely rare. But of all angels, one of her humans, correction—one of the humans that prayed to her, was making something for her. Amara couldn’t help but feel satisfied—correction, she couldn’t help but feel loved. That was the word. Not that the prayers she heard from those that prayed to her ever lacked love, of course. Just… this love wasn’t ephemeral. It was more than just a thought that touched her own. It was a physical manifestation of his emotions. No one else had felt that way enough for her to express themselves physically.

She knew humans often gave each other presents as a means to show affection, friendship, gratitude, and appreciation. Her human—correction, one of the humans that prayed to her, truly cared for her. She was more than just an angel to answer his prayers. To Harvey, she had significance other than just what she was or what she did or what she could do. Harvey cared for her. Cared for Amara, not just Amara, the Angel.

Warmth alighted on her cheeks as she thought about that. In his eyes, she was a person…not just an angel. Amara could feel her entire frame sigh, if that were possible. She smiled as she noticed that Harvey had started working on the details of her face now. He was close to being done.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Another couple of months went by before her division was finally given leave. Amara had seen being assigned leave as another mission, another assignment. Now she saw it as more than that. It was an opportunity to work on her model. An opportunity to see her human—correction, the humans that prayed to her. She really needed to stop thinking about him as her human. Not that he wasn’t, of course. Just that…well she shouldn’t be thinking of him in possessive manner. That was inappropriate. Angels didn’t do that.

Amara took great satisfaction in how well her model of the Cathedral was progressing. By watching Harvey work on her statue—correction, the statue of her, she learned that love improved performance. He loved his work. But her statue—correction, the statue of her- was significantly more detailed and beautiful than the rest of Harvey’s carvings. Not because he was spending more time on it, he only really worked on it for an hour or so a night, but because he was pouring love into his work. By seeing her Cathedral as an object of love instead of a hobby, the rate at which it was progressing was much faster than she could have imagined. Maybe she would give it to Commander Bruna when she completed it. She still hadn’t made up her mind about whether she was going to give it to Bruna or to Avacyn. What would Harvey think of it? Not that she was planning on giving it to him, of course. Just that…well, he was a woodcarver and would more fully appreciate her craft. Maybe that’s why she should give it to him. But…she loved Avacyn and Commander Bruna above all other things. Shouldn’t her gift go to one of them? They already had everything she could offer though. Her entire existence was devoted to them and to the humans she fought to protect. All of her love already belonged to them. Would it be so bad if she gave this small token away to her human—correction, to the human that prayed to her? No. She couldn’t think like that. It was borderline blasphemous.

But wasn’t that exactly what Harvey was doing? He has already dedicated himself to Avacyn and her church. Every statue he carved had to do with the church. He didn’t see the statue as a representation of love greater than his love for Avacyn. The Archangel already had vastly more of his heart than any statue could equate…so was it so bad to consider giving it to him?

She would figure it out later. This leave was longer than normal, five days instead of three, and she intended on making the most of it. Amara worked tirelessly, stopping only to sleep as much as her mind needed. She wasn’t quite sure why she was so intent on finishing it. Amara had no idea who she was going to give it to anyways. It didn’t matter. Whoever she was going to give it to would love it. He’d probably—correction whoever it was, would probably love regardless if it was done this week or a few months from now.

When at last she finished it four days later, she had accomplished as much as she had in the last few decades. All because she was pouring her love into the work. Love that an angel feels for her human—correction, for the humans that pray to them. Purely platonic and not romantic like the humans had. Not that it was unheard of for angels to have those feelings…or that she had those feelings…not that it would be a problem if she did have those feelings…not that she did, though…

Amara bit her lip thoughtfully. She had never experienced such conflicting thoughts and emotions until she had started seeing Harvey. Not that she was seeing him in the way humans see each other, of course… not that it would be unheard of if she did choose to. More like seeing him in the way that involved her visiting him. Not him personally, of course. Just checking up on her humans—correction, on the humans that prayed to her.

Amara closed her eyes and shook her head. I guess my mind is made up for me. I can’t get the idea of giving it to him out of my head.

A clear, bright thought burst its way through her troubled mind, a prayer unlike any she had ever heard before. Harvey. No. Not just a prayer. A call for help. He was in danger. She only had on her At-Rest Robes on, not exactly battle armor. It didn’t matter. Harvey was in trouble. Amara grabbed her sword and shot out of the aerie at a speed she knew was disrespectful to the Archangels. Amara would have to apologize later.

When she blasted across the city to Harvey’s home, her heart froze in her chest. His shop was on fire. His shop was on fire! True panic, not like the confusing warmth that thinking of Harvey made her feel, pulsed in her veins moving her to action. Amara swooped by, looking for a landing zone. The speed with which she flew past blew out some of the flames, enough for her to land through a hole in the roof on the top floor. Avacyn guide me, she thought. This is bad.

Amara tossed aside the burning statues he had throughout his home and the rubble from the building itself. Humans did not have the resilience against fire that angels did. It wouldn’t take long for a little bit of fire to wreak a lot of damage on a human. She had to find him. There was just so much burning wood everywhere! Of course her human had to—correction- NO! She didn’t have time for this! Of course her human had to be a wood carver. She ran through her options, realizing that trying to find him beneath the rubble would take too long. As an angel of the Flight of Alabaster, her skills weren’t so much with her blade, though she was quite competent with it, but in her magic. But she had never cast a spell as powerful as she needed now. Using the dampening power of White magic, she tried casting a tranquility spell on the building that would calm the chaos of the fire until it died down.

But it was beyond her abilities. Amara had never cast a spell this powerful and this encompassing before. She had always been able to rely on her sisters when she needed to cast spells of this magnitude.

“My angel! Where are you?” She heard him shout from downstairs. That was all she needed. Amara took a grip on his words and followed their love and their faith, using it to fuel her spell. The blood pounded in her ears as she strained her body and her magic to their limit. Around her, the flames began to die down…but it still wasn’t enough. Amara couldn’t risk relocating downstairs and losing the spell she had going. She didn’t have time to find him under the rubble downstairs or try to rebuild the spell in time to save him.

Performance is improved with love. She thought to herself. Her mind flashed to images of her statue—correction- NO! Shut up! It was her statue! Memories of her statue and the model of the Cathedral in her roost flashed to the forefront of her mind. I need to add love, she thought. Drawing upon a source of power she had never before thought of using, she fueled her spell with her own love.

Using the magic inherent to her as an angel of the Flight Alabaster, using the magic of Harvey’s love and faith, and using the magic of her own love, her spell expanded until it fully enclosed the entire building. It would take a few moments for the fires to burn out. She had to make sure the enchantment would last that long. But every moment felt longer than the last. Each second weighed upon her like a hurricane. Bright lights danced across her vision; she was reaching the limitations of her body. If she kept channeling magic this way, her body would incinerate from mana burn… It didn’t matter. Harvey needed her.

With renewed vigor, Amara channeled even more magic into her spell. Every inch of her body, both inside and out, burned. Not like when she thought of Harvey. She burned like molten rock of the mountains across the sea. Amara let out an involuntary cry of pain from her lungs. But she wouldn’t give up. She would channel the magic to put these flames out even if it killed her. Amara had never imagined that an angel was capable of feeling so much pain. But the idea of Harvey’s light dying from this world was a greater pain on her heart than her body could ever inflict.

Her body shook like the earthquakes that occasionally hit Nephalia shook the land. She felt as though her very bones would be shaken to dust before she was done. Blood leaked from her nose from the effort and the veins on her arms and face stood out like roads on a map. Tears of pain spilled from her eyes and her cry of agony faded into an inaudible grimace. She was dying. In a few more seconds, she would be all used up. She knew that for Harvey only a few moments had passed, though for her it had seemed like ages. Darkness began to close in around her vision and she felt a wave of exhaustion crash against her. It offered The Blessed Sleep, the gift she had given to thousands before her. Amara smiled and gave in to the darkness, embracing The Blessed Sleep.

  
____________  


She was back in her roost. All the others were empty and a brilliant light filled the aerie. It was as though Avacyn had brought a drop of the sun and sprinkled it around the room. Bruna waited for her, suspended in midair with her wings spread wide and welcoming, out by the exit.

“Come, Amara. You have served your duty well. It is time for me to carry you into the Blessed Sleep.” She beckoned.

All her life Amara had worked to ferry the souls of the dead to the Blessed Sleep. At last, that opportunity would be hers. Amara could rest forever now. Her model of the Cathedral! She could give it to Bruna now!

A single pulse pumped through her body as she recalled having finished it already. A wave of exhaustion hit her with pain that nearly knocked her off her feet. Bruna’s voice interjected before Amara had time to think about what had happened. “Come now, Amara. Avacyn is waiting outside. Together, we will guide you to The Blessed Sleep.”

Amara glanced at the exit of the aerie, remembering how many times she flown out of it. This would be her final time. A memory of her blasting out the aerie at a disrespectful speed pounded through her head. Her vision swam with pain she couldn’t ignore. She set a hand against the bed, waiting for the pain to subside.

“Is something wrong, Amara?” Bruna asked, concerned. “You seem unwell.”

“I am fine,” Amara responed. “I’m just having trouble dying-flying! I meant flying.”

Bruna tilted her wings and glided over. She was legitimately concerned. “Amara, you need help. Please. Let me carry you away to the Blessed Sleep. You deserve to rest.”

Her body shook like a bell stuck a too hard and she could feel every ounce of blood in her body force themselves through her veins. “I deserve…to smile?” Again, pain racked her core followed by a tidal of exhaustion that made her collapse on the bed.

“You deserve to rest.” Bruna replied, her beautiful face frowning. “Please come with me. I don’t want to see you suffer anymore.” She reached out and grasped Amara’s hand.

Amara’s body pulsed, eliciting a cry of pain. Memories of a handsome, neatly bearded man shaking her hand played across her mind. One word reached the forefront of her mind. “Harvey?” She felt like her heart ruptured from effort and her head nearly burst from pain. Blood began to trickle down her nose.

Bruna’s face changed, expressing her realization, and nodded solemnly. “Go, Amara. I see now why you have resisted so strongly. You have found that which only a handful of angels in history have ever experienced. Avacyn and I would be cruel to take that away from you.” Amara collapsed on her hands and knees as her vision blurred and her head swam. The pain was so intense, so consistent now, it was blurring all other thoughts and senses. Her heart pounded away, but with effort, as though a mountain rested on it.

Bruna went on as Amara collapsed on the floor and darkness filled her vision. “As angels, it is our mission to bring about happiness. You have succeeded, Amara.”

____________

“My angel…come back to me.” He whispered, cradling her limp body, tears running down his face into his beard. “Please. I…” He paused, searching for the right word. There was a word on his mind that he didn’t want to admit he wanted to say. After a brief moment, he sagged his shoulders and admitted. “I love you, dearest angel. Please come back to me.”

His heart fluttered for a moment, in tune with her eyelids. “My angel? Please. Fight it. I know you crave the Blessed Sleep. But…you can’t go. You’ve never experienced happiness.” His voice wavered, on the brink of sobbing. “You can’t leave without that.” A thought sprang to life in his mind, “My dearest angel. Listen to my prayer. Come back to me. Come back and experience happiness with me. This, I ask of you and of Avacyn. Please… come back to me.”

Amara took a gasping breath as her eyes opened, her hand reaching up and grasping his arm to prove to herself that she was alive. Now it was Harvey’s turn to be speechless.

She reached up a pale, delicate hand to his face and caressed his cheek. “That…” she weakly managed, “…is a prayer I can answer for you, Harvey.” And she smiled. Not a small smile, not a nervous or insecure smile…no. This one was genuine. It was real.

At last, he had heard her voice. For the first time in his life, he had heard her voice. She smiled up at him. A genuine, heartmelting, warm smile. He wanted to speak, to tell her how happy he was. But words were incapable of expressing the depths of emotions right now.

So he kissed her.

____________

Feelings and emotions she thought only humans were capable of rushed through her body and mind. She didn’t know where they came from, just that they were there. Whether a product of vestigial organs…or born of the love her human carried inside for her, Amara knew what it meant to be a woman. But far beyond that thought, deeper than any concept she had ever assigned to herself… she realized she was her own person. She more than just an angel. She was more than just a force of justice. She was something only a handful of angels had ever managed to become. Amara was a separate, autonomous, unique, and individual person.

For a brief second she broke away from him, gazing into his beautiful eyes. To make sure she had all of his attention. “I. Love. You.” No corrections. No justifications. Each word in that phrase now had meanings that she had never before comprehended. Until now. Amara pulled his face back down to hers and kissed him. She didn’t need the statue to tell her what he felt and she didn’t need the model to tell him how she felt. Amara had him in her hands now and could express those feeling in a way nothing else could match.


End file.
